


Hierarchy

by Demerite



Series: Trektober 2019 [28]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Crying, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, M/M, Mirror Universe, Overstimulation, Power Imbalance, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-05 12:50:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21208829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demerite/pseuds/Demerite
Summary: “What have I told you,” Gabriel growls, low and dangerous, his grip tightening, “About who gives the orders here?”Jim twists, struggling for breath, but he doesn’t try to escape.





	Hierarchy

**Author's Note:**

> For the Day 29 Prompt: Rough Sex, and also part of my ongoing mirrorverse series.

By the time Gabriel makes it back into his quarters, the blood on his face is near-dry, dark and tacky. He feels it pull at his skin when his lips twitch upwards at the sight of Jim, sprawled on his back on the bed, flicking a knife into a precise, high arc above his head and catching it effortlessly. When he hears the door, Jim sits up, looks in Gabriel’s direction and a smirk makes its way onto his face.

“You’re back.” He says. The knife swishes through the air again, and Jim catches it without looking. “I wondered how long it would take you to kill them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Gabriel says, hands already moving over the fastenings of his breastplate, “I didn’t kill them.” At Jim’s raised eyebrow, he adds, “I let Landry do that.”

Jim laughs and slides off the bed, stretching gracefully. He vanishes the knife somewhere and crosses the room near-silently on bare feet to take over the task of removing Gabriel’s armour. Gabriel humours him, lets Jim undo the fastenings and slide the gold breastplate off, set it aside and then tug Gabriel back towards the bed.

Jim’s hands are quick and sure as they divest him of his uniform jacket, then smooth over his undershirt, coming away smeared with blood.

“You’ve got blood all over your uniform.” Jim says, and Gabriel is about to ask him why the hell he cares when he continues, “You should take it off.”

That almost makes him laugh, he lets out an amused huff of breath and raises his eyebrows at Jim, who grins back, “I’ve got blood on my face, too.” Gabriel points out.

“Yeah, but it looks good on you,” Jim replies, giving him a very obvious once-over. “Now hurry up and get naked.”

It’s close enough to an order that Gabriel can’t let him get away with it. Jim is, in simple terms, a goddamn brat. He pushes at every boundary he can get near, and seems to _delight _in finding ways to get under Gabriel’s skin at every opportunity. But that's just a step too far. 

Before Jim can react, Gabriel’s hand darts out and grabs him around the throat. He’s expecting Jim to struggle, but he goes still and pliant in his hold almost immediately, although he still manages to glare up at him defiantly. It reminds Gabriel of the day they’d met, Jim, battered and bruised and starved, kneeling at his feet in the Imperial Palace, eyes alight with defiant fire. Emperor Georgiou had promised him a challenge, and Jim has been exactly that, but in the best possible way. But there’s only a certain level of disrespect that Gabriel will tolerate.

“What have I told you,” Gabriel growls, low and dangerous, his grip tightening, “About who gives the orders here?”

Jim twists, struggling for breath, but he doesn’t try to escape. Gabriel knows he could, that Jim has at least one knife concealed on his person and is more than capable of getting out of his grip if he wants to, but Jim just stands there, lets the pressure of Gabriel’s hand wrapped around his throat guide him downwards until he lets go, and Jim drops to his knees on the decking with a breathless gasp.

He looks up at Gabriel immediately, blue eyes alight and furious, but he doesn't move from his position at Gabriel's feet. He's too well-behaved for that, or at least, he is when he wants to be. Or when Gabriel _makes him. _

He still hasn't answered the question though. 

"Who gives the orders?" Gabriel asks again. 

"You do." Jim mutters, glaring. 

"What was that?" Gabriel doesn't hesitate, delivers a stinging slap across Jim's left cheek, the sound loud in the quiet of the room. 

Jim flinches, raises a hand to press to the reddened flesh. "You do, Sir." 

"Better." Gabriel tells him. He sighs, "I wouldn't have to hurt you if you behaved." He says it like he's weary of punishing Jim. He'll never be weary of it, and they both know it, but giving Jim hope that he might escape punishment one day is all part of the game. 

Gabriel considers him. He could punish Jim now, but he could also wait.

“Get undressed. Up on the bed.” He orders and Jim rushes to comply. So obedient, when he thinks it will get him what he wants. “Hands and knees.” Gabriel adds, admiring Jim’s lithe body as he shifts into position. The most recent set of marks left on him are starting to fade, and Gabriel thinks that he needs to leave a few more. Well, that fits in with reminding Jim of his place. 

Gabriel lets Jim wait for a moment, letting the anticipation build, then brings his hand back and lets a sharp strike fall across Jim's ass. 

Jim flinches, hips twitching forwards. He gasps, a short, sharp breath, but doesn't make another sound. 

Gabriel hadn't really expected him to. Not from only one strike. So it follows it up with four more, fast and hard and admires the way the flesh of Jim's ass is starting to pink up nicely. 

Jim is panting, arms shaking with the effort of holding himself still. He wants more, Gabriel knows, but that's too bad for him. He needs to be taught a lesson, and Gabriel will, as always be the one to do it. But as he thinks this, he can feel the dried blood tug at his skin uncomfortably. He probably should get cleaned up first. 

Gabriel circles the bed, picks up the bottle of lube on the nightstand, and tosses it onto the sheets in front of Jim. 

"I'm going to shower." He announces, "Get yourself ready." There are unspoken instructions in there, rules that Jim knows better than to break. _Don't do more than is absolutely necessary. Don't touch your cock. Don't even **think **about coming. _

He hears Jim let out a frustrated whine behind him, but he's already turned and headed towards the bathroom. 

~*~

When he returns, he has to stop for a few seconds to just appreciate the sight in front of him. Jim is in much the same position as the one Gabriel left him in; up on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed. His head is down, and even across the room, Gabriel can hear him breathing in short, sharp pants. The lube has been carefully replaced on the nightstand, which means Jim's done as he was told and got himself ready - or at least thinks he has. 

When he approaches, he can see the moment Jim registers his presence from the way his muscles tense and his breathing catches. But he doesn't say anything, and he doesn't look up, dreading, or anticipating, what Gabriel is going to do to him. 

"Did you get ready?" Gabriel asks him. 

"Yes." Jim replies, "Sir." The pause isn't lost on Gabriel. Another transgression to add to the list. 

"Good." Gabriel nods, "I'm glad you remember how to follow instructions. I thought you'd forgotten." 

He sees the moment when Jim bites down on his desire to respond, swallows the sarcastic remark that Gabriel knows he's probably desperate to let out. Gabriel lets that count as a point in Jim's favour. He needs all he can get at the point. 

Jim flinches when Gabriel's hands wrap around his hips, but he doesn't resist when Gabriel drags him towards the edge of the bed, or when two fingers press against his hole, checking his work. There's very little lube there, less than Gabriel would have expected, and less than he would have used. Clearly, Jim wants this to hurt as much as he does. 

"You earned this." Gabriel tells him firmly, "Your disrespect is what brought you here." Remember that." He lines his cock up and pushes in in one long, slow thrust, ignoring the way Jim hisses in discomfort and how his hands claw at the sheets, doesn't stop until he's bottomed out and Jim is panting again, his breaths sharp and edged with pained whimpers. He's tight and hot and perfect, and Gabriel had meant to maybe take things slow, to draw it out and torment Jim, bring him to the edge over and over only to ease him back until he was sobbing, but this is so much better. 

He pulls out and _slams _back in, hard and fast and Jim sobs again, and keeps sobbing and gasping as Gabriel doesn't get up, fucking him hard and fast and brutal, chasing what he wants with little regard to how Jim feels about it. Somewhere in there, Jim's arms give out and he collapses forward onto the bed, but Gabriel doesn't let him slip away from him, drags him back with a bruising grip on his hips and continues to thrust. 

Jim is crying in earnest now, not putting up any kind of resistance, but he's also stopped trying to get away, his hips are twitching back, probably without him realising he's doing it, to meet Gabriel's thrusts, chasing more even through the pain. Gabriel just shifts his angle until he knows he's hitting Jim's prostate head-on with every thrust, delights in the way Jim's sobs scale up to broken little cries, interspersed with what might be words, curses or pleading or even Gabriel's name. It's like music to Gabriel's ears and watching Jim like this is like looking at a work of art. 

When Jim comes, it's with a scream that he tries to smother in the sheets. 

"None of that." Gabriel drags his head up by his hair, "Let me hear you." He doesn't slow his thrusts at all, doesn't give Jim any mercy, chasing his own release even as Jim continues to cry, overstimulated, trying to pull away for real this time, pulling against the hand in his hair until a particularly hard yank has him snarling curses in Gabriel's direction. 

"Manners." Gabriel chides. Even as he says it, Jim spits another bitten-off curse, but Gabriel is past caring about his token resistance, thrusting deeper still as he over orgasm crashes through him, his hold in Jim's hair tightening further as he lets out a muted groan. 

He pulls out, and Jim winces. 

"Have you learned your lesson yet?" Gabriel asks, although he knows Jim hasn't. 

"Never." Jim says, with a sleepy, sated grin. He looks _entirely _too pleased with himself, and Gabriel knows it's likely that Jim planned that all along. He should probably be more concerned about that, Jim's manipulative, clever nature is bound to come back to bite him sometime, and Gabriel is getting the sinking feeling it might be sooner, rather than later. He'll do something about that. Tomorrow, maybe. For now, he has Jim, post-coital and oversensitive and he still has punishment to dole out. 

He looks Jim over, lets a predatory grin sneak onto his face. 

"You didn't think we were done, did you?" 

**Author's Note:**

> Want to know more about Trektober? Click [HERE](https://aishahiwatari.tumblr.com/post/188059640163/trektober) for the info post on Aisha's tumblr, or [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Trektober2019) for the AO3 collection to read our fic. 
> 
> Come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://demerite.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
